Page 19 of The Duke’s Wager

“It is true – our king has been suffering from ill health over the last few years. I have a friend in the palace who claims that he has not been himself ever since the tragic death of Princess Amelia. He says…”

The man lowered his voice.

“The king has not been making any decisions whatsoever lately. He is in Windsor Castle and the Prince of Wales is acting in his place. They are attempting to keep this quiet, but…”

Everyone knew this, except for the diehard royalists who refused to believe that their king had succumbed to his insanity. Alfred was one of them.

“The Prince of Wales is truly ruling the country in his father’s stead?”

Despite himself, Edward was rather interested in this tidbit. The man nodded, eager to show off his vast knowledge about the inner workings of the palace.

“It has been this way since Princess Amelia’s death five years ago and most people know it by now. I’m surprised that the Duchess of Hartford is not aware of this. Did she not visit the palace quite often?”

Edward hesitated. It was true that his grandmother had been a confidant of King George and it was possible that she was indeed aware of the realities in the palace. Yet, he knew that she cared for the king far too much to talk about it and he was hesitant to connect her name to any of the rumors about it.

As such, Edward merely shrugged as though the conversation had started to bore him.

“I am not certain what my grandmother knows. If it is true that the Prince of Wales has taken control, and that King George is stowed away in Windsor Castle…”

“It’s true.”

The tall man interrupted him, and Edward turned slowly, staring at him quietly. Only when the man looked adequately ashamed did Edward speak again.

“As I have said… if these things are true, I am certain that the Duchess will have the full account from the King himself. And if he had asked her to remain quiet about it, she will not breathe a word to a single soul – including her grandson.”

His words seemed to placate the vultures – save for Julian, who stared at Edward through narrowed eyes.

“Do you mean to claim that if the Prince of Wales is truly in control, it is with the express permission of the King?”

Though there was no way of truly knowing this, Edward nodded confidently.

“Indeed. King George was the one who elected the Prince of Wales as Prince Regent, was he not? So there is no reason to believe that he is unaware of anything happening in his kingdom.”

Alfred looked grateful for Edward’s assistance, and he nodded at his friend. In truth, Edward could not care less about the monarchy, but he would walk over hot coals before agreeing with Julian about anything in this world.

Julian opened his mouth to speak, but Edward quickly changed the course of the conversation.

“Has anyone read Lord Byron’s new collection?”

“Indeed!” Alfred answered quickly, relieved by the change of topic. “Quite a lovely collection of poetry, don’t you think gentlemen?”

Edward grinned brightly. In truth, poetry was a guilty pleasure of his. It was a joy to speak about.

“Lovely indeed. ‘She walks in beauty like the night, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies’…”

Perhaps Edward would have been able to recite the entirety of the poem, but Julian was loath to give him the opportunity to do so. A lecherous grin broke out over his face after a short two lines.

“Oh, she walks in beauty, he says? Quite like a lady I myself saw last night.”

Once again, Edward took a subtle step back. It was only Julian Pembroke who could interrupt a glorious conversation about art and poetry with lecherous talks about his latest conquest. Edward knew that he should have expected it the second he mentioned Lord Byron, but with one such as Julian the landscape of a still life would be enough encouragement to talk of lechery.

It was rather exhausting and one of the many reasons why he avoided all conversation with the man.

“She was like something you’ve never seen. The type Sir Shakespeare would have written sonnets about – robust, voluptuous with innocent eyes and the most sinful of bodies. She was heavenly and I…” Julian laughed arrogantly. “Naturally, I believe that I quite changed her perception of love – and the making thereof. The girl was desperate to see me again, clutching at my shirt like one drowning.”

The other men seemed enthralled by this tall tale.

“It was a magical evening – and I once again proved my reputation as London’s greatest lover!”